


Starbucks

by park3rborn



Category: Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: ASL, Alternate Universe - After College/University, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Awkward Flirting, Banter, Baristas, Bickering, Biphobia, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Break Up, Brooklyn, Bucky Barnes has long hair, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Bucky is highly intelligent, Car Accidents, Car accident ment but not in detail, Clint Barton & Kate Bishop Friendship, Coffee Shops, Contractor Clint, Deaf Character, Deaf Clint Barton, Disability, Drunk Driving, Fluff, Freckles, Friendship, Gen, Hospitals, Judaism, Kate Bishop is an amazing friend, Kate Bishop knows ASL, Kate Bishop: matchmaker, Legal medical experiments, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Messy Buns, One Shot, Pansexual Character, Pansexual Kate, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Prosthesis, Scientist Steve Rogers, Sign Language, Starbucks, Stark Industries, Steve is a language geek, Steve just happened to be better at focusing on school, Swearing, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark is a good tipper, Tony Stark is talkative af, car accident and drunk driving and hospital all very brief mention in the first section of the story, coffee-shaming, copious amounts of coffee, james and kate work at starbucks, kate likes to fuck with clint, no romo between kate and clint so.. don't expect that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 04:24:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4465367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/park3rborn/pseuds/park3rborn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Bucky recovers from a debilitating car accident, he takes up a job at Starbucks. There, work-related shenanigans occur and Bucky makes valuable friends.</p><p>Prompt: Person 1 hates coffee but goes almost every day because the barista, aka person 2, is really cute and always makes sure to spell his name right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starbucks

A few months ago, in December, Bucky Barnes had been in a car accident. He was driving back home to Brooklyn from a job interview in New Haven. He had just graduated from college with a partial ride, and he needed a source of income. Yale was offering him a job as greenskeeper, and because of his background and family history, the perks were pretty sweet. Like how he could go to Yale (if he met their admission requirements, which he did) for a very discounted price for his master's degree. And how his kids could go to a freaking Ivy school for that same discounted price if he was still in that job whenever his kids were old enough for college. It had seemed to go well, and Bucky was, frankly, happy to even have a job.

The roads were shitty, with ice and slush and some traffic. The other guy was wasted as fuck in his shitty one-ton truck, slid right over the median into Bucky's lane, and before he knew it, he was in a helicopter taking him to Mount Sinai Beth Israel, a Jewish hospital in Brooklyn.

After the effects of adrenaline and heavy pain medication wore off, the doctors carefully told him his shoulder and entire left arm had been crushed by the "irresponsible driver" who had hit him. Said driver also had no insurance and came out of the crash unscathed, so he would have to foot the bill. Typical. Bucky ended up getting his arm amputated and soon after received a experimental metal prosthetic, sponsored by Stark Medical Tech, an offshoot of Stark Industries. Bucky was broke and the experiment paid for most of his arm and medical bills, so he didn't have much of a choice.

Now, Bucky worked at the Starbucks a couple blocks away from the Brooklyn Museum. It was also located near a handful of high schools and the Congregation Kol Israel. Deep down, he felt like the Jewish community had saved his life, and thus he wanted to help serve them, to pay off his debt. Also, he needed to literally pay off his debt. His car was totaled, his insurance rates went through the roof, and medical bills, although alleviated by his experiment compensation, were eating his lunch. 

Being a barista had been tricky at first, still getting adjusted to his new arm, but Bucky was a fast learner. That's how he graduated top of his class in high school, and salutatorian in college (the valedictorian was some punkass skinny blond kid who double majored, like a huge nerd, in English and Gaelic literature, and probably saved orphans and kittens from horrible fires in his spare time). Kate Bishop, a black-haired and fiesty senior from the Clara Barton High School just down the road, was his mentor in more than one way. She helped him learn how to do foam art, how to make the perfect messy bun, covered shifts for him when the pain in shoulder wouldn't let him even get out of bed that morning, and most importantly of all: how to piss off customers just enough to make the job fun. When you worked at a coffee shop like this, it was practically law that you misspell customer's names on the cups. It was always fun to see the look on someone's face as they came up and took their drink, and checked their name to see if maybe  _this one time_  an employee would spell it correctly. It was almost always incorrect, but sometimes what Bucky or Kate thought would be an incorrect name ended up being their actual name. For instance, one week they had someone they thought was called Leia, like the princess, and misspelled it as Leyah, but it ended up being her actual name. _  
_

Bucky didn't always misspell names, though. If someone looked like they were having a hard time, he would be extra careful to spell their name right and sometimes add a doodle of a flower or a "have a good day!" scribble next to the name space. Or if they were particularly cute. Today would be one of those days.

* * *

Clint Barton, local snarky deaf man, practically lived at the shop. Every morning, at 10 am, he would stagger in looking exhausted (every. single. day.), and order three trenta (even bigger than the venti) black forest cake frappuchinos. The only reason they even kept trenta cups in regular stock was because of this chronically tired, chronically disheveled scruffy-looking blond man. Trentas were fucking expensive, and Bucky secretly wanted to know what kind of a job Clint worked that let him afford so many goddamn drinks. Kate told him that Clint worked as a stripper part-time at the local gay strip club called the Grind. Clint insisted he worked as a contractor for Stark Industries. Bucky believed both.

Clint was a good guy. He tipped well, cleaned up after himself (even though he sat looking dead-eyed at a window seat for about an hour and some change every day as he waited for the sugar and caffeine to hit him), and when relatively energized, he would tell stories and bicker with Kate. Apparently, from what Bucky heard during one of these bickering matches, Kate interned at Stark Industries under Clint, and then received a job offer a paygrade above Clint. Her parents were not okay with that, so she told Mr. Stark to "keep your goddamn pants on" and wait until she graduated high school so her parents wouldn't think she was a total dropout. Even though she would be making more money than any Brooklyn 18 year old could think of.

Another bonus about Clint was that sometimes he brought in friends or coworkers. Bucky actually got to meet Tony Stark once during Clint's coffee hour. He was very charismatic, clean, and hyperactive, the polar opposite of Clint. That day, Mr. Stark strolled lazily up to the counter and said, "Just get me a venti dark roast with like five shots of espresso-- actually, you know what? Scratch that. Just give me a venti espresso." Bucky nearly cried. That was like ten fucking espresso shots. But he wasn't going to argue with the billionaire genius. How the fuck this guy hadn't had a heart attack was beyond him. Maybe it was his robo-heart? Who knew?

After chattering on at 100 miles an hour, no thanks to the giant espresso he had just chugged, complimenting Bucky's barista skills (even though it was really just coffee) every now and then, Mr. Stark noticed Bucky's glinting hand (which was usually the first thing people noticed about him, whether they voiced it or not) and asked if it was one of his. Bucky told him his story (omitting some of the gorier details because some little old bubbies were having brunch in the corner, talking about how great their grandkids were) and thanked him for his technology, and the money he got for participating in the experiment. Tony had fished out a business card, scribbled a phone number down, and told Bucky very seriously that if he ever had any trouble with his arm or wanted to soup it up or get flames on it, to just give him a call and he would make room to work on him. He also gave him a check for $1000 as a tip, telling him to "keep up the good work" with the coffee. Which really, was just coffee and not particularly hard. But money was money and Bucky wasn't going to complain. Sometimes he wished Mr. Stark would come back with Clint again, and not just because of the money.

* * *

 Today, Clint was followed by Mr. Stark, which brought a soft smile to Bucky's face, and a smaller blond guy who looked about Bucky's age. Clint groaned and loped over to the ordering station, rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn. 

"Rough night at the strip club?" Kate asked. 

"You can fuck right off, Kate," he mumbled.

"Anyone I know there?" One of Kate's main sources of entertainment was fucking with Clint. They were sometimes viscous to each other, usually teasing each other at the shop. Although it seemed mean on the surface, Bucky learned that they practiced archery together on the weekends and whenever they both had time off. They were like an old married couple, except that Clint was probably old enough to be her dad.

In one shining moment of lucidity, Clint looked her straight in the eyes. "Yeah, actually. Your boyfriend," he deadpanned.

"Nice one, Clint," Bucky congratulated, giving Clint a fist bump with his right hand. It wasn't the best comeback he'd ever heard, but it was the most awake Bucky had seen him in literally months.

"What're you having today, Sugar Nips?" teased Kate.

Yawning again, Clint said, "Three, um..." he stared at the menu above Kate's head blankly.

"Black forest frapps, trentas?" Bucky offered. Apparently the amount sass so early in the morning had seriously reduced Clint's abilities to create words. 

Clint nodded and shuffled over to his holy window table, placidly observing his calloused hands.

Mr. Stark and the other blond, whom Bucky mentally named Not-Clint, were talking about some sort of international communications shit in line. When they made their way to the front, Mr. Stark asked for a venti hot chocolate with whipped cream, saying something to both Not-Clint and Bucky about how the perfect Starbucks science had created a perfect combination of whipped dairy and cocoa helped his brain work optimally. Bucky was pretty sure he also said that his body was "like a microchip" or some weird shit like that. Bucky almost instantly zoned out after Mr. Stark said the words "Starbucks science". Not-Clint's mouth was moving as he glanced up at the menu. Not-Clint was kind of hot, Bucky couldn't lie. His blond hair was undercut, and he had freckles that ran across his nose and cheekbones. He wore a v-necked t-shirt and jeans, and damn did that shirt fit. Wait...  _fuck! Not-Clint is talking to me! Shit oh fuck--_

"I-- um, sorry, could you repeat that?" Bucky spluttered.  _Be professional, James._

Not-Clint smiled graciously, "Yeah, no problem. I can't have dairy so could I get a... um... a vegan frappuchino, I guess? With extra sugar?"

"What size would that be, sir?"

Bucky could have sworn Not-Clint had blushed, but maybe he was just projecting. "Um, medium?"

"Grande? Okay, so a grande vegan frapp with extra sugar. Is that it?"

"Yep. Sorry, I don't usually go to Starbucks."

Bucky shrugged, "It's fine."

Not-Clint turned to walk over to Mr. Stark's table, but then Bucky realized he hadn't gotten an actual name or given him his receipt.

"Sir?" he called after him. Damn, that ass was  _fine_. But he had a job to do.  _Focus_.

"Hm?" the blond guy with the nice ass turned.

"Your receipt. Also, I need a name so we can call you."

"Steven Rogers, but my friends call me Steve."

"I'm James Barnes, but everyone calls me Bucky," he returned. Steve put out a hand, grinning, which was a very new thing for Bucky to experience in non-formal situations. His left hand tugged his long sleeved shirt farther over his prosthetic as his right hand returned the shake.

"So, do you want Steven or Steve when we call you?" _Good recovery._

"Steven's fine. And thanks," Steve said, taking the receipt, "Does Tony need a receipt too or does he just own the place?"

Bucky failed to suppress a laugh, "Well, he probably could buy the place and turn it into a parking lot and Clint wouldn't notice," he nodded over in the direction of the disheveled man, who was getting up to get his three giant coffee cups.

"I wouldn't doubt it."

As Steve walked over to Mr. Stark, Kate slid over some suggestions for fucking up Steve's name (they kept a list of ways to misspell a name behind the register), which included "Steev, Stevia, Steevann". Bucky shook his head and wrote very carefully: "Steven" on the cup, then went to make the frapp. Waiting at the pick up counter with Clint's copious amount of coffee, Kate slyly met his eyes and gave him a flirtatious wink and a raised eyebrow in Steve's direction. Bucky blushed and went to work.

"Clint!" Kate sang, grinning, "Clint Barton, your order is ready!"

"'m coming," Clint grumbled and made his way to the counter. Her grin widened as he grabbed his cups, lazily glancing down at the names written on the cups to make sure they were his. He squinted. He was  _pretty sure_ the cup said Cunt, but that couldn't be right. He took a sip and narrowed his eyes at the cup again. "Kate, what the f--"

"Language," Steve warned.

Clint curled his lip and rolled his eyes, continuing, "What the _fishsticks_ is this?"

Kate cocked her head, "I'm confused. It's your name, right? Clint?"

He stalked back up to the counter (after of course dropping off two of his three cups, cradling the first one to his chest). "Seriously?" He carefully handed Kate his cup, like he was offering the Holy Communion.

"Oh," Kate said with very impressive fake innocence, "My I and my L must have mushed together... golly Mr. Barton, I don't even know what this word means!"

"I'm onto you, Bishop. One day," he declared quietly, threateningly pointing a finger at her nose, "I will get your sassy ass back. One day."

"Hopefully you'll be awake that day," Kate teased, handing Clint his cup back.

Clint huffed and returned to his seat, drinking coffee like it was air. He glanced back at Kate, who opened her mouth to say some other lippy remark, and deliberately turned off his hearing aids. She glared at him, and he just shrugged and moved his free hand in a circle on his chest, then pointed to himself, and then gestured from the corner of his upturned mouth to his ear.  _Sorry, I'm deaf!_  Kate pursed her lips and discreetly fingerspelled  _fuck you Barton_ at him.

Bucky handed Kate Steve's cup and mumbled something about taking his break and scurried away, leaving a mildly intrigued Kate to call Steve's order.

"Thank you," Steve said, brows furrowing as he looked for Bucky.

"He's on break," Kate offered.

"Oh," Steve sounded disappointed.

"Hold on..." Kate scribbled down some numbers on a cardboard sleeve. "Good luck, kid," she whispered with a wink, sliding him the cardboard paper. On it was a phone number and the name James Barnes. And hearts were drawn in place of the A's. There were also his typical work hours and favorite restaurant. Apparently, Kate was invested in this.

"Um... thank you..." Steve mumbled awkwardly, shuffling back to Tony, who had not stopped talking since he had walked into the shop except to slurp on his drink and sometimes inhale.

Kate made a quick scan of the outside of the store, and not seeing anybody, she jogged to the break room to harass Bucky.

* * *

In the break room, Bucky was trying to get it together at the round table that often held donuts or espresso shots. Lots of hot people came into the shop all of the time. It wasn't unusual. What was unusual was the fact that a very, very attractive man came in with Clint Barton  _and_ Tony Stark, and was very kind and gorgeous and  _that smile_...

"James Barnes, what the fuck is this?" Kate hissed as she slid into the room, "Are you actually getting flustered by a geeky blond kid?"

"Shut up, Kate."

"I gave him your number." Kate was nothing if not honest to her friends.

"You did what!?" His metal hand slapped the table, making a loud thunk. _  
_

Kate blinked in initial shock, then shrugged, "Listen, I'm trying to get you some. The least you could do is thank me."

Bucky's whole face went red and he buried it into his palms, hunching over in his chair.

"Listen, James Dean," Kate said gently, "I know your breakup with Nat was kind of shitty for you, but I think you should just give it a shot. I mean, did you see that ass?"

"Oh my God, Kate, you don't even know if he's gay."

"Trust me, dude. He was full on heart eyes-ing at you."

"He was just a guy, Kate."  _Just a really gorgeous guy._ "Besides, when people know I'm bi, they get grossed out. You know how it is."

Kate put her hands up defensively, "All I'm saying is, give it a shot." She left him to consider.


End file.
